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Putting a 'Spin' on Sin
Spin is one of the relatively new words in the American lexicon. Well, to be more precise, it's actually an old word with a new meaning. It used to describe what tops did, or how to turn wool into yarn, or what you took a new car out for. But — and these observations are not the result of any deep, extensive research on my part — it seems to me that the latest usage popped up in maybe the '70s or '80s in the political arena, perhaps being derived from the phrase spin a yarn. It means to explain a thing or a situation so as to present one's self or one's viewpoint in a favorable light. It is closely akin to the term "rationalize," meaning to "defend, explain, clear away, or make excuses for by reasoning."
Spinning has come to be the province of spin doctors, who, naturally enough, are folks particularly skillful at the task.
Many, if not most, of us seem to have our doctorate in spinology; we have a natural knack for spinning. Or to put that another way, we all have a proclivity for lying. For, you see, just as we have taken our old word spin and given it a new meaning, so we also have taken an old meaning and given it a new word. Lying has been around since Eden, of course, hidden under many a disguise — prevarication, circumlocution, exaggeration, falsification, fib, story, equivocation, calumny, distortion, subterfuge, misrepresentation, dissimulation, and so forth. Now we've come up with a new one: spinning. Let me give you some examples of it.
Gossip
Gossip goes by many names, depending on the translation we are reading: tale bearing, whispering, slander, backbiting, and maybe some others. But God is displeased with it, no matter what you call it. So, what kind of spin do we put on it to justify it to ourselves or others?
Probably the most common "explanation" we hear (or make?) for gossip is, "But it's the truth." Now that has a good ring to it, but is truthfulness to be our only consideration? Whatever happened to motive? Paul said that we're to speak the "truth in love" (Ephesians 4:15). Are we brazen enough to claim that gossip is done in love? Or how about grace? We are to let our "conversation be always full of grace" (Colossians 4:6), because that's the kind of speech that builds people up rather than tearing them down (Ephesians 4:29). I don't think any of us is prepared to argue that gossip is the kind of gracious speech designed to build people up.
The truth is that some things just "ought not" to be said (1 Timothy 5:13), so instead of putting a spin on our gossip, why don't we just quit it? And while we're at it, let's quit even listening to it (Proverbs 25:23).
Fornication and Adultery
Worldly people commit sexual sins on purpose. They are as brazen as the adulteress who "eats and wipes her mouth and says, 'I've done nothing wrong'" (Proverbs 30:20), but generally it's not that way with us Christians. We are committed to the will of God, yet many of us commit fornication anyway. "We didn't plan to do it," we say, "it just happened."
Is that really true? Did it "just happen?" No flirting, no fantasizing, no scheming to be alone with each other, no "innocent" lunches, no talk about mates who "just don't understand us," no rationalizing that "God want us to be happy?" It just happened? Yeah, right.
Is that how it occurred with David and Bathsheba? Their affair just happened? Maybe it was natural for David to walk on his rooftop on a warm evening, and maybe Bathsheba truly thought her bath was private. But what excuse could David offer for his inquiries about her, much less sending for her? How could Bathsheba rationalize accepting his invitation? He's the king; I have to obey?
There is no excuse for the adultery of these two strangers. It was driven by lust, nothing more or less. David was inflamed by Bathsheba's beauty and she perhaps by his position and power. But it didn't "just happen."
Stealing
Every time I thing of stealing, I thing of the son in Proverbs 28:24, who said, "It's not wrong" to rob father or mother. What could he have been thinking? What kind of spin could he have put on such a sin? What's theirs is mine? I'll get it when they die, anyway? They owe it to me?
Sadly, though, that kind of thinking is still around. Take Wal-Mart, for example. They're a big target for thieves, especially shoplifters and employees. The most common rational? "They're a big company, they'll never miss it." Or maybe, "The pay is lousy, so I'll just help myself to a 'raise.'"
It's not that people are stealing things they need to survive — not milk for the baby, or food, or medicine. Nope, tobacco products used to be at the top of the list, until they put them under lock and key. Now the big items are such necessities of life as CDs, DVDs, video games, and the machines that play them. After all, these things are overpriced, and Wal-Mart is big enough to absorb the cost anyway.
It doesn't matter: stealing is stealing. God forbids it and tells us that if we have been doing it to stop. But he goes even further and tells us to get a job and give to the needy (Ephesians 4:28). As is true of most other sins, there are numerous ways to steal. We have to think beyond the obvious. Cheating on income taxes, taking stuff from our employer, intentionally selling something defective — these, and scads of other things, qualify. If it's not ours, God says we're to leave it alone — not take it, and then spin some justification for what we've done.
Lying
Finally, there's putting a spin on spinning. To many of us the gravity of lying is a matter of degree. "It was only a little, white lie," gets us off the hook, we think. As if God sorts lies in "big and little" or "black and white." Of course, we all know that some lies have greater repercussions than others. But evaluating those repercussions objectively is something else; my little bitty fib is certainly not as harmful as your great big fat lie. Actually, though, God doesn't even teach us to evaluate the effects of our lies; he simply demands that we tell the truth. Since we generally lie to gain an advantage or to protect ourselves can you imagine the chaos that would result from giving each person the right to assess the damage caused by his own lies?
Even though, as I've said, we human beings seem to have a proclivity for lying or spinning — those of us who are trying to please God fight against it.
Take, for example, David, a "man after (God's) own heart" (Acts 13:22). He did some terrible things: adultery, deceit, murder (2 Samuel 11). But when Nathan confronted him with his sin, David admitted it immediately and without evasion. "Then David said to Nathan, 'I have sinned against the Lord'" (2 Samuel 13:13). No excuses, no passing of the buck, no spin whatsoever, just a straight ahead acknowledgment of the truth: "I have sinned."
When the prodigal son "came to his senses," he went home to his father and confessed without equivocation, "Father, I have sinned against heaven and against you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son" (Luke 15:21). That's what people in their right mind do; they confess their sin and repent of it.
Sin does awful things to us: it separates us from God, kills us, enslaves us, and dooms us to hell. We'd have to be crazy to settle down and get cozy with it. The only "sane" thing to do is to confess it freely and without reservation, and ask God to forgive us.
So, by all means, spin your top (don't blow it), or take that new car for a spin (um, that smell). You might even spin some yarn (ah, living green) or spin a yarn (right on, Jerry Clower). But if you're tempted to put a spin on sin, just remember, Lake Brimstone is warm any time of the year.
— via Lost River Bulletin
